Sometimes I think I think too hard.
I worry, I overthink, I analyze, I pick-apart. I try to break conversations down to their smallest components, searching for hidden messages and meanings, never just taking things at face value.
I love words. I string them together in the same manner as a child stringing buttons for simple amusement. Watching the play of light on the colors as they fall together, listening to the clinking sound they make when you shake the string. I take them back apart, not happy with the purple round button next to the green square button. They don’t work, so off comes the whole strand, to start again.
It’s the same with the words. I write them out, and when seen all together, I listen to the sound they make in my head as they would if someone were speaking. If the music is pretty in my head, they stay. If it clangs, discordant, they’re discarded and ground under as fertilizer.
But, sometimes, in the middle of the night, when my mood’s been low, or I’m busy avoiding something…. words can be my worst enemy.
Today started out wonderfully. My mood from the previous night had lifted. I was good to go, to start my day. I was happy at work, joking with my co-workers, and being my normal snarky self.
Until — family drama insinuated itself. Then, the rest of the day fell at my feet like shattered crystal. I won’t get into specifics here, because, as I said above – I’m avoiding it.
I’m good at avoidance.
I should have majored in it at college, but I wouldn’t have made any of my classes.
I was taught how to avoid difficult emotional issues by a master, and I learned my lessons well. Everything is seen through a smoke screen, and when the really tough stuff comes up – SLAM the door – hard enough to rattle the windows. Run the other way.
And then, I can’t sleep.
Because, even though I’m avoiding – it’s still there, in the back of my brain, gnawing.
It can hear its little mousy feet scritching and pattering along the walls of my skull.
In daylight, I can’t hear it so well. The diversions and distractions of the outside world are enough that it blocks the sound of the worry, the stress and anxiety going on in the back of my head. But, as soon as there’s a quiet moment… the tiny sound of clawed feet.
And, instead of medicating it, I wallow. Yeah, something I need to work on. There’s a part of me that welcomes this wallowing as familiar. The emo-teenager that still lives within my skin loves the drama of it all. The adult? Thinks it’s stupid. Just DEAL WITH IT, ALREADY. Tell that family member what’s really bothering you. Get it through your mind, out of your mouth, off your chest. Just be honest, you’ll feel better.
And then I want to scream. Knowing that the other person won’t listen, doesn’t want to hear it – she’s the one that installed the damn program in the first place! Avoid, Avoid! Danger, Will Robinson!
Crap. I don’t want to whine about this anymore. *waving hands in front of my face*
Forget it. I wasn’t here, you didn’t see this. Moving on.
It’s 3 o’clock in the morning. Do you know where your insomniacs are?
WARNING: These guys swear a lot – and they’re LOUD But they know how to string the beads. (This is not the official video, but I love the kid at the beginning.)
i LOVE THEM.